Darken Legacy
by 2epx
Summary: Years after the events of Lylat Wars and the Apparoid invasion, Fox leads a withdrawn life, filled with nightmares and anxieties. Despite his resolve to never again take part in a military conflict, he chooses to act, when a close friend's life comes into danger. Soon, he finds himself facing the mysterious Darken, said to be the best pilot in the galaxy. The Darken Legacy begins..
1. In Search of Fox

"I am looking for Fox, Fox McCloud!" Weasel screamed at the barman over the loud music.

"I don't know no McCloud," said the barman, cleaning a glass with a polyjerkin cloth. "The only fox everyone comes to see here is Fox Star. Eyes up stage, pilgrim."

Weasel turned towards the stage. At the center of all the music, bass booms and treble waves, synced to the music, danced the most glamorous person he has ever seen. She had perfect rich hair, smooth fur, hypnotic hips and an enchanting look. It took him a while to remember why he had come here.

"No, I am looking for Fox McCloud, the pilot." He shouted again.

But no one was listening. The bartender had already moved on, serving other customers.

The other room was thick with holographic smoke. It melted dim lights and precision beams to create a heavy, slow atmosphere. It also gave parties seated around large round tables some semblance of privacy. Sounds from the main club floor, barely audible here, were drowned in the mass of hushed, murmuring voices.

"Excuse me," tried Weasel at the nearest table. "I am looking for Fox McCloud from Star Fox."

Some of the players questioningly glanced in his direction from their cards. Most quickly decided he was not worth their attention. A big lizard transitioned her cigar from the left corner of her wide mouth to the right and muttered.

"Excuse me?" Weasel came closer. The lizard carefully removed the cigar from her mouth, holding it with two clawed fingers.

"Yeah, right. He is in here. He is hiding underneath the table and is serving us aces as we need. Alongside with General Pepper and the Cornerian president." A couple of players and onlookers burst out laughing. It was a harsh, demeaning laughter.

Weasel did not want to attract unnecessary attention. This little episode has already made the bouncer start in his direction. He chose to delve deeper into the smoky hall. In just a couple of minutes he was able to find his way to the elevators. Needing a moment of privacy, he opted for the staircase instead.

Air in the hallway was cooler and sharper than inside club. It bore no reminiscence to the heavy asphyxiating atmosphere of the gambling hall. Weasel leaned against one of the walls. He pushed the back of his head against the surface, enjoying the cold touch. On the wall opposite to him were direction signs. Up to the bar, down to the games and simulations room. Simulations room! Of course. That was it. He quickly huddled down the stairs.

"You can't win, kid. Maybe you just wanna stop trying, huh?" The large, corpulent crocodile let out a humorous sound - a mixture of laughter and chortle. There was a small crowd around that particular simulation set. Four Arwing cockpits, four pilots. Or would be pilots, in some of the cases. Two of them were just chewing on corn and bacon jerky waiting for the next round. The gamer twins. A gepard and a giraffe. They were always around. Third was the crocodile, now leaning way out of the simulation cockpit, towards the fourth figure. A somewhat distressed young rabbit.

"Yeah, Give it to her, Vin. She thinks she is an ace." One of the onlookers cheered the crocodile on. The speaker was dressed in a similar fashion as Vin: Blue workman suit with yellow stripes. The mark of hangar freight pilots. Its bearer would navigate large freight containers that served for loading and offloading of heavy cargo and for organizing warehouse stock. There was a time when drones would do this work. But since the time Andross almost took over the star system with an army of autonomous crafts, there was a level of reluctance towards sentient machinery.

"I don't get it, Vin. Must be something wrong with the controls. Seriously, my flying is flawless!" The hare protested.

"Sure it is. Wanna switch cockpits again?" Majority of the crowd erupted in laughter.

A figure closest to the rabbit leaned forward.

"Your flying is great, Hop. You have the makings of a great pilot. The fact is, most young cadets in the academy fly similar to how you do - they strive for perfection in their movements with text-book execution. You know, tt looks great from the cockpit, but it makes your movements predictable to your enemies. If you allow your controls to be a little bit loose, it will take you to the next skill level. It may feel a little half baked at first, but it will grant you more flexibility and improved reaction time." The speaker had one arm around the hare's shoulders and the other on the control stick. With a soft wiggly motion, he was illustrating his point.

"Maybe you wanna sit-in, yourself, Roose?" Vin roared. "You know, so that, just for this once, you would be anything but all words and no action. Wanna show us all how it's done, professor?"

Roose, Hop's friend, looked at Vin. For a moment it seemed like he became someone else, like he got beset by a distant memory.

"You know I don't fly, Vin." He said quietly as he withdrew.

"Yeah. We know that, don't we, boys?" Vin roared.

"Maybe it's the reason the kid keeps losing to me. Listening to your advice." Vin got his big body out of the simulation cockpit. He was so large that stepping out was a process.

"Alright, we are done here. Come on boys. Let's check out the bar." He thudded out and the small crowd followed.

As new players jumped into the simulator arcades, Fox and Hop also headed out. Weasel, who had witnessed the whole scene was quick to follow.

"Mr. McCloud! Allow me a moment."

Reed and Hop were sat at a small table in a local coffee, overlooking the hangar. It was close to midnight and the place was empty but for them and the service. Everyone else had been gambling or at the bar, sleeping or working the night shift. The fox looked up from his drink. The rabbit had an alarmed look about him. Weasel knew then, his guess was right.

"You must be mistaken, my friend's name is Roose." Said the hare hurriedly. The fox waved to dismiss her protest.

"What do you want?" he asked the newcomer, without lifting his eyes from the pancake menu.

Weasel was nervously clutching his Derby. His white shirt suffered a number of stains over the long night and made him look mucky. He was exhausted. This was his moment, though.

"My name is Weasel. I am the secretary censor from Xosos - a small planet at the edge of a known system. In case you have not heard of it. Our planet is currently under attack and blockade by a neighboring force, Zubaria."

Fox gave him a brief look, but then quickly went back to his menu. He was past pancakes and on to the cake section now.

"The Zubarian force is much larger than ours and they are also using mercenary forces. As an outlying system, we don't really have strong alliances yet and are all but defenseless against the Zubarian threat."

"That sounds really bad." Fox said while going through the list of sweet foods.

Weasel pursed his lips and readjusted his monocle.

"The Zubarian army is using mercenary forces to put the pressure on us. They have blocked all trade routes, disabled our portal stations, communications with outside… I risked my life getting out to find you. It was not easy, let me assure you."

Fox finished reading the menu. All that was left was a blank page with a fine print of the restaurants business details at the bottom. He put the small booklet aside and looked Weasel in the eye.

"Well, you found me. However, I am afraid, I can't be of any help. Perhaps you have an army of your own?"

"We do," Weasel assured him. "However they are no match for the mercenary group that Zubarians hired against us."

"Why not hire mercenaries of your own then?" asked Hop.

Weasel nodded his head hurriedly, then shrugged and sighed. He took a chair from a nearby table and sat down.

"We tried. Of course we tried. But everyone just turned us down." Weasel pulled at his whiskers.

"Is it because their price was too high?" Hop took a guess.

"Not really, I mean, money is not the problem. We are not the wealthiest of countries, but when it comes to our survival… we are happy to approve extraordinary expenses."

"What's the problem then?" Asked Fox. He was getting tired, he did not appreciate the breach of his privacy and he was in no mood for mysteries. Weasel leaned forward. His hands checked his cufflinks with a mind of their own.

"You see, the Zubarian mercenary forces are led by a pilot who calls himself Darken."

Both Fox and Hop stared at him blankly. It took him a while to realize why.

"Oh, I see. You probably don't follow the scene very closely anymore. Darken is said to be the best pilot in the galaxy. As a mercenary, he became prominent over the past few years and has quickly attained a quite a legendary status. No one will stand against him."

"Nonsense!" Hop burst out. "Fox is the best. Everyone knows that."

Fox rested a hand on Hop's forearm to calm her down. He appreciated the youthful energy the rabbit had, but he was also aware it was years since he had last flown. He was tired of wars and fighting and in this conversation, he felt like a passerby. He could see how distressed Weasel had been, but he could not emphasize.

"Star Wolf?" He suggested.

The Xosian envoy shook his head.

"Star Wolf is no longer available for mercenary work. They don't do that anymore. And other pirates will not go against Darken."

Fox rose his eyebrows. He would love to know more about what Star Wolf was currently up to, but did not trust Weasel enough to engage the topic. He stood up.

"Well, as I said. I am sorry for your trouble. But there is nothing I can do for you. I am done with wars and fighting, I am done with flying. Done with all that. I am sorry you wasted your time. I hope you will be able to find help elsewhere."

Hop looked puzzled. She could not conceive why a hero such as Fox would so easily refuse to provide his assistance.

"But Mr. McCloud, what will happen with my country?" Weasel called after him. The departing Fox turned to give him one final answer:

"How should I know? Sign a peace treaty with the Zubarians, become a federation… Whatever it is that countries do. These guys don't sound too friendly, but they surely ain't no Andross. Now, if you will finally excuse me, it has been a very long day."

Weasel sank back to his chair, as Fox left behind both him and the disilussioned hare.

Author notes:

First, apologies for the changes to the story - this is my first submission and I was not aware of a number of things. Posted the whole story first, then as chapters, finally got a friendly advice to drip chapter by chapter. So some of you have the full story by now, up to you whetheryou want to keep or resync to go by chapters. Overall, this should result in a better experience for all readers, as some of the chapters are currently very short and I may amalgamate them into larger wholes.

Second, I want to thank everyone who has read this far. This story helped me deal with some personal stuff and I am thankful for that. I also want to give full credit to Frostclaw01, who has a number of great Star Fox stories on here. Some of their work was treated as cannon in my own story.

Third, I want to call out Daniel Tidwell's cover of Corneria (as well as all of his VG work) - simply amazing, feel free to look it up.

I am happy for any feedback you will give me, either via here or via PM. I will try my best to respond to all.

I had one hell of the time writing the story and I hope you have a good time reading it.


	2. Memories

"Bloody warmongers," Fox thought to himself, as he got to his apartment. He started to undress. He felt exhausted and was looking forward to getting some sleep.

Wars were no good. People got hurt, people died, survivors carried the scars…

Fox activated window shades and laid down on the bed. He fixed his stare on the ceiling. Tiny beams of light found their way through the shades. They came from a mixture of street lights and headlights of passing vehicles. They resulted in little sparks dancing on the ceiling, reminding Fox of stars. He was hoping for sleep. Sleep, however, would not come. Restless thoughts pervaded his mind instead. Small uncertainties, minor fears, general feelings of doubt. One anxious thought led to another, until they all inevitably brought about the question that defined Fox's adult life. He had tried to will it away, for years, without much success.

Fox got up from the bed and walked to the bathroom. He poured himself a glass of water. Through the small bathroom window he became aware of the soft rain outside, barely audible against the noise of the air conditioning. Fox put the empty glass down on the side of the sink and looked into the mirror. He was out of shape, his facial features less defined, his fur unkempt. He was not burly yet, but neither was he athletic anymore. His was a a tired look.

Roose, the moniker he used to disguise his identity, looked nothing like Fox McCloud at his prime. And there was barely anything left of James McCloud. The appearance of his father was a distant memory now. Fox could no longer summon a sharp picture to his mind. Just a loose recollection of color and emotion.

As his thoughts wandered, Fox painted a map of the Cornerian system on the mirror with a wet finger. Corneria, his home. He grew up there. He had fond memories of his childhood. An experience of growing up in a loving family, a persisting sense of adventure and discovery. Both his father and his mother would constantly come up with fun activities and games. They were young, kind, beautiful and full of hope.

Fox missed his parents. Not just on this particular night. He missed them growing up. With both of them gone, life sometimes felt like going through the motions. His father and mother were both held in high esteem by all the instructors in the Cornerian Academy and there was a strong ethos of caring for each other in the Cornerian military. Thus, Fox enjoyed a fair amount of support. Many of his instructors would try to step in here and there, invite Fox to a family dinner, take him out for the weekend alongside their own families, encourage senior students to make sure Fox did not spend too much time in solitude. McCloud junior got an excellent education and became an respected pilot. This was not without some hard work. Fox was a stellar student, disciplined soldier, caring comrade, respectful leader… He strived for perfection and sought recognition. After all, he was the son of James MC Cloud and Vixy Reinard and thus, he had had a very large shoes to fill.

Maybe this is where he developed his fierce sense of justice and his hunger for righteousness. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism. Perhaps he was really only trying to earn praise and acknowledgement from the parents who weren't there? A proud hug from his father. A loving embrace from his mom. Fox had to chuckle and tighten his mouth, not to give in to tears.

He was just a kid when he lost his parents. Almost forty years later, an adult now, he still felt the same way inside. Alone and starved for validation. A kid who is hurting inside, but has to put on a mask, because of the way he believes the world wants him to be.

Throughout the course of his life, he got to save the entire star system - more than just once. An accomplishment anyone would savour and cherish. However, Fox was brought up as a soldier and he needed little and desired less to get by. He desired no medals no accolades, no flowers, no speeches. As a soldier, he did his duty. If there was something he truly wished for, it was the impossible.

The hero who had saved a whole star system stood in his bathroom, perplexed in the small hours. His parents never witnessed him become the legend he had become. They were not here and he missed them profoundly.

Years and years ago, during the Lylat Wars, when Fox and his friends were fighting on Venom. That time, during his final confrontation with the criminal mastermind Andross, Fox was joined by his father, who had helped him find a way out of the imploding facility. The catch was that Falco, Peppy, Slippy - all his friends who were there at the time - swore Fox was the only one they saw come in or out of the facility. And Fox was also the only one to escape its destruction. But Fox became haunted by the experience. Was his father really there or was it just a traumatized mind summoning ghosts of the past to protect itself from the heavy stress of the moment?

Even after all those years, he still would not know. Had his father really been there? Was he real, blood and bones, a tangible person? The father who would hug him so strongly every evening after coming back home from the academy? Or was it all just a chimera?

Fox approached the troubles of his mind, the same way he would treat all the problems in his life: He pushed through relentlessly, looking for ways to keep his mind occupied. The conflict with Apparoids gave him every opportunity to do that. It was a long and taxing war and most of it faded from Fox's memory. All but the final confrontation and the suffering of those infected by the Apparoids. Fox had nightmares about that too.

Once the fighting was over, Fox was hopeful to start a relationship, to settle and have a family of his own. As a romantic partner, Fox wanted to be loved and he passionately loved in return. But in the end, his inability to cope with the loss of his parents and the unhealed emotional scars clawed at his happiness, preventing him from settling down. Happiness eluded him, thwarted by depression. He was pursued by thoughts of inferiority. He believed himself undeserving of love. Regardless of their patience and love, it was something his romantic partners could not change or fix and the relationships would deteriorate over time. Such was the story with Krystal… Other affairs took a similar course.

Back there during the Lylat Wars - was his father truly out there? And if he were, where was he now?

Fox was on his own in an empty dark room that felt too large. He wanted to call for his parents for fear of ghosts. Just the way he did when he was a kid. Yet the ghosts stayed and the parent never came.


	3. Battle Above Xosos

Lunchtime at the docks was always busy. Machine routines for the rest of the day were mostly set and the freight pilots, engineers, mechanics and the general populace would enjoy a slow time eating, in conversation, or in games. But mostly with the latter one, since the queues in the local canteen were mostly unbearably slow and they needed to kill some time.

Simulators were a popular pastime. Small crowds occupied various cabinets, cheering players on, making bets or just taking an opportunity to converse. Despite how commonplace flight was to them, simulations around this theme invariably attracted the largest attention. Vin was the local champion. Not so much for being a skillful player, but rather for being such a colorful character. He was a good fun to stick around. Even those not harboring appreciation for the games liked to pay witness to Vin wiping the floor with whomever would stand to challenge him. One such scene was taking place right now and Vin was scolding a young intern about his performance.

Fox made his way through the crowd. He waited for the laughter to die off a bit.

"Hey Vin, where is Hop?" he asked the crocodile.

"I don't know, man, Roose. I can't babysit every wannabe pilot in the galaxy. He has probably gone back to flight school for kiddos after last night." Fox would not call Vin a close friend, but he had come to learn that the crocodile had a big heart and he seldom meant what he said other than in a jest.

One of the bystanders patted Fox on the shoulder.

"If you are looking for your bunny friend, you have to look elsewhere. It seems like she landed herself some sort of a deal with a guy from outside. Dan here tells me they left just a while ago."

Fox froze.

"Smaller guy, glasses, green tie, a bit nervous…?" He asked.

Dan nodded.

"Yeah, that's about right… Fox, hey, where are you going?"

#

How could Fox have missed this one. Warmongers, army recruiters, sly snake-oil salesmen… They were always the same! Want to make some fame, young man, young lady? Wanna make friends for life, stand for a good cause and protect the innocent citizens… Yeah, all that. They always made it sound like the easiest thing in the world.

Of course Hop had gone with Weasel, Fox thought. She yearned for adventure. She idolized Star Fox and all the stories that surrounded it. How could he not see the spark in Hop's eye and how let down his young friend was when Fox had turned Weasel down…

A loud siren signaled that the freight elevator had reached the lowest floor. Fox stepped out and started towards the far corner of the large hangar bay. After a short walk, he found himself in front of a large concrete cubicle - not dissimilar to the thousands of others on this floor. This one was special to Fox. It held his past inside.

Fox hesitated for a moment. Then he put his paw on the terminal. A hidden speaker produced a confirmatory sound and the garage doors opened soundlessly.

It felt like stepping into a museum. All had been as Fox left it years ago: There were crates with tools, supplies, medals, hordes of paperwork. His flight suit was spread across one of the boxes. There was barely any dust on it. And in the center of it all, majestic and shiny, with sleek white body touched by purple and branded with a red mark of winged fox on its side, right under the cockpit - his Arwing.

It was time to leave Roose behind.

#

It was not like Hop imagined. The warp gate near Xosos was disabled by the Zubarian army, as were long range communications. To get to their destination, Weasel and Hop had to travel to a different system and undergo a long, strenuous and slow flight from there on. They were tired, short on fuel, and in desperate need of sleep.

Hop had hours to ponder on her decision, since Weasel was mostly silent throughout the journey.

When they were about an hour from their destination,

By the time they got there, Hop's back was aching and her head felt numb from sleep deprivation.

"Xosian fleet approaching fast from the planet to join us as an escort." Weasel reported what Hop could already see on the radar. But that was not all she saw there.

"There is another group incoming from the other direction." Said Hop.

"Yes, Zubarian forces and mercenaries." Weasel responded.

In her imagination, they would be facing three or four ships, but what she saw was a small army.

"What do we do now?" She asked Weasel.

"Now, Ms. Hop. Is when we fight for our lives and hope that you can bring about a miracle." Weasel responded.

She checked the controls and adjusted throttle. She ran her eyes past the controls to make sure the craft was ready to engage.

"I think you may be overestimating my skills." She remarked.

"Oh, I was not referring to your ability. I was talking about your friend's conscience."

#

To the left and right Xosian fighters were burning. The Zubarian forces held superiority in numbers, yet it was the mercenary forces that made all the difference. Darken's dark ships took no chances. They employed deadly tactics of allowing allied Zubarian forces engage with Xosian ships and then they cherry picked their targets, attacking from flanks.

Hop had to learn on the go. She quickly came to realize that this was quite unlike the simulator. Her heart was pounding an her stomach was weak. It was an effort to control her bladder. Why had the heroic stories never mentioned this? She came to save the Xosians, but now she herself felt in need of being rescued. Everything was happening at the same time, and there was no cheery crowd standing around, passing beers. If she makes a mistake now, it won't be just Vin scolding her, she realized. This time, she will not get away with just a blush.

Another Xosian fighter exploded ahead of Hop. And her ship systems faithfully recreated the sound of the explosion. This was meant to help pilots towards better spatial orientation. Right now, it gave Hop goosebumps.

The victorious Zubarian spacecraft came into her view for a second. It came across all too quickly for Hop to get a clean shot, but she managed to fire and her lasers grazed the hull.

"This one has teeth". A screechy sand voice came through on the radio. There was an audible spit with every consonant pronounced.

The small achievement bolstered Hop's morale and inspired her to respond.

"Did you expect this to go easy?" She taunted. She instantly regretted this, as she found herself a target to two enemy units' strafing runs. She managed to roll out of danger, but it was too close to her skin.

There was a hissy laughter on the radio.

"If you can survive for a while, girl, I will ask you out for a dance!"

Great, thought Hop, I am making friends.

#

The Xosian numbers were diminishing at twice the rate of the Zubarian forces. Somehow, Hop was managing to stay alive. She took down another enemy fighter. Then another one. And then yet more. Although she had constantly felt like she was falling behind in her ability to get oriented in the scrummage, at the end of the day, she was still alive.

A ship almost crashed into her.

"Too close to your liking?" It was the hissing voice from before.

The enemy was on her six. As Hop maneuvered to get away from her pursuer, she saw two enemy ships attack Weasel's craft. They were well positioned. Unopposed, they had all the time in the world to line the shot.

"I am hit!" That was Weasel on the radio. His ship was damaged, though yet afloat. There were only a handful of Xosian fighters left, with plenty of Zubarians encircling them.

"I'll have to disengage, along with my escort." As the remaining Xosian ships started to put some distance between them and the point of conflict, Hop had found herself stranded amidst enemy forces. How many were there? Four? Six? Twenty?

"A hero comes to the system from outside…" a mocking voice came on the radio. Behind Hop loomed the shadow of the enemy vessel. She quickly yanked the control stick to escape. Her fighter quickly spiraled around the yaw, then seamlessly transitioned into a displacement roll. Hop's execution was flawless. Adrenaline induced senses granted her a level of control she's never experienced in a simulated environment.

"Impressive." hissed the voice, dripping with contempt. The evasive action was successful. However, her enemy was quick to reclaim their position at her tail.

Hop reduced throttle to optimize corner speed, she rolled into a split-S, followed by a large turn. She manipulated the throttle again in order to make her movements less predictable. Her opponent went for an aggressive overshoot - his craft appeared in front of Hop's ship but it never stayed long enough or in a careless enough position to give Hop the opportunity to pull the trigger. He is toying with me, Hop realized, as once again, the enemy was getting positioned on her six.

"Boom boom, little hero!" enemy's words were followed by a sound of real explosion.

"What is this?" She could hear before the enemy turned the general channel off. She looked around furiously.

An explosion took place, indeed, but it was not Hop's craft that had exploded. A large spherical blueish aftermath left behind four burning ship carcasses. A Zubarrian ship has barely made it out of the blast and found itself within Hop's sights at the end of its getaway maneuver. Hop did not hesitate. The enemy craft was too taken by surprise to react. Hop scored a take-down and made for a large turn to asses the situation.

Two dark ships were pursued by a new craft. It did not register on the radar and thus, it took enemy by surprise. Hop ran her fingers over the controls to initiate auxiliary systems visual analysis. In a whim, the results came on screen. A white Arwing type fighter with purple wings. But, Hop could not calm her excitement, those were Star Fox colors!

"Fox!" Hop exclaimed over the radio. Before there was a reply, she got hit and something inside her ship gave way.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Arwing take out three mercenary crafts in a deadly strafing run and another one with a charged shot - a concentrated pulse of energy. Fox had turned the tide of the battle in less than ten seconds! Hop's joy was marred only by the fact that her ship had suffered some damage. She struggled to stabilize the craft, but noted the ship was slow to respond.

She checked around for the other fighter. The one with the sand paper voice. There was no one behind her, to her left or right…

Her ship shook again. Of course… under her. She tried to roll her ship to bring the enemy in sight, but the vessel controlled like a log now. Hop realized she was a sitting duck and began to panic.

#

Even after the long journey, Fox's anger did not let down. The Xosian portal was disabled and he had to take a slower route. While it gave him an opportunity to reacquaint himself with his ship, it also played on his nerves. He must not be late.

When he finally arrived, he had found the battle all but decided. There was one Xosian fighter left, Hop's craft was all alone and she had a pursuer on her tail.

The Arwing purred softly even after all the years - a testament to Slippy's engineering prowess - and Fox was enjoying his muscle memory kicking in.

A bomb took care of two enemies, a strafing run topped with a charged shot took care of a few more. A Zubarrian ship got away in the last moment with a clumsy maneuver. It found itself right in front of Hop and the hare did not hesitate. Fox felt a tinge of satisfaction. That was some great flying for a simulator pilot, The moment of surprise was on Fox's side. With most enemy forces scrambled or confused, he had the time to address Hop's pursuer.

The other pilot maneuvered around Hop's vehicle positioning it between his fighter and Fox.

"Fox, what should I do?" he heard Hop on the radio. He recognized the desperation in her voice and it brought about a memory of him learning about his mother's death and how he sought his father to provide a comforting answer. There was nothing his father could have possibly said to comfort little Fox.

The enemy was putting some excellent flying on display. But what Fox saw was a show put on by someone who was too eager to show off. A great pilot, boasting with pride and lacking discipline.

"Just keep flying straight, Hop. No matter what happens. Just don't get cocky." Fox replied in a calm voice.

He was now flying to Hop's left, with the enemy craft on the other side.

This will be fun, he thought, as, all of a sudden, he performed a barrel roll to the right, only missing Hop's spacecraft by palm's width and slamming, full throttle, into the enemy ship. The enemy ship was thrown out of control. Fox was not in a good position to turn and take the enemy ship down, but he was in a good enough position to quickly drop speed, bank right and shoot of a wing. And he pulled it off with deadly precision.

The enemy ship went into an uncontrollable spiral.

"Go after him, Fox!" Hop cried out.

"Maybe next time, Hop. We better get down to the planet now. This is not our fight." Fox was eager to be done with this and he was not looking to get more involved than he already was. He has come for Hop, that was all.

"Run, cowards, run. I will be waiting for you. You will never leave here!" The angry outburst reminded Fox of Oikonny, Andros's nephew.

"That will be enough, Spyder, I am taking over. The team will help you stabilize. You will then return to the base, while I will deal with the hostiles." A new voice came on the radio. Confident, decisive and calm.

"Darken!" The reaction came aloud from both Spyder and Hop, who had made the right guess.

The black ship hung between them and Xosos, the only available port they could reach given their fuel reserves. Same as Fox's Arwing, it would not register on the radar.

"Stay out of this, Hop." Fox said as he noticed the mercenary ships follow suit and withdraw. Then he switched to the general channel.

"So, Darken," he said conversationally, running his eyes against the systems for a routine check. "This is Fox McCloud on the radio here. I don't really have any side in this and just came to rescue a friend. So we can save ourselves some trouble by you stepping aside, so we can get to Xosos, refuel and get out. How does that sound? I feel like I have shot down enough fighters for the day."

There was a strange moment of silence. Both ships were closing in on each other. Fox noticed the other ship to be a newer type. Not exactly an Arwing, but not quite dissimilar. Perhaps an improved Arwing variant. One way or another, it was a craft unlike any he has ever seen.

"Can't do. Are you ready for a dance?" Darken's voice said. It was definitely processed - it sounded too distorted and mechanical to be real.

Fox sighed. He maxed out the throttle and initiated a charged shot...


	4. Allegiances

It did not take Fox long to realize that Darken was an excellent pilot. It was true that Fox hasn't flown in years, that he was out of shape, out of practice and had a strenuous journey behind him, but he knew from experience that Darken had more than a just little sleep on his side. The dogfighting was intense, the ships would overtake each other, engage and disengage in a strange rhythm of probing for a weakness. Shots were exchanged. Both standard, charged and smart bombs. To anyone watching, this had to be quite a spectacle. But there was never a clean window of opportunity for one fighter or another. Guided charge shots were fired and evaded repeatedly - a most masterful of feats. It seemed to be the most ordinary to these two combatants. Hop would be beyond herself, if this was a show she could watch with her friends at a bar. Here and now, every projectile headed towards Fox made her heart jump. If he could not stand up to Darken, neither could she. And both their fates would be sealed. She thought of taking an opportunity to make an ambush, but was not sure whether she would help or complicate things.

As the conflict dragged on, Fox could feel himself fall behind. Throughout his whole career, he has only ever met two other pilots who would measure up to him, perhaps even best him: Wolf O'Donnel and Falco Lombardi. There was no doubt in his mind now, that Darken was as good as they were, if not better. He was like Fox's worst nightmare. No matter what maneuver he chose to perform, Darken followed through. This applied to basic maneuvers, advanced techniques, Fox's signature moves and also impromptu tricks he was able to come up with on the spot. As if Darken knew what Fox was going to do. As if he could predict his every move and intention.

Fox was trying hard to visualize all the different patterns and flight moves he knew. He was hoping that some of the older ones he learned by heart at the academy may throw Darken off. If the other pilot was younger than Fox, chances were, they would not be as familiar with some old-school tricks and underhand turns.

He gave one a try. Then another. To no avail. Darken's piloting skills were impeccable.

Fox realized that he was pulling the shorter end of the stick. The windows of opportunity started to appear more and more frequently for the other pilot. When he did not take advantage of the first or the second, Fox attributed it to slow reaction or his own prompt evasion. But it slowly dawned on him what the real reason behind this clemency had been. This was not about a quick victory. This was about total domination. Finding out who of the two was better due chance or random maneuver would not count. There had to be a demonstration, leaving no doubt, about who the better pilot had been.

Come on Fox, it is just psychology. He told himself. He tried to convince himself to snap out of it. He tried to focus. To get over the defeatist attitude. There! There it was.

He completed a reckless barrel roll to the right, dropped speed, performed a U-Turn, followed by a spiraling screw rotation and… Bingo! Darken's craft was right in front of him. This was the moment. Fox did not care about proving who the better pilot was. He only cared about making it out alive. For him, there was nothing to prove. He pulled the trigger and pushed on the control stick to follow Darken's evasive maneuver as he kept firing. This was the moment!

But he must have missed a turn, he must have misread his opponent somehow, as the other ship suddenly changed course and disappeared above and to the right.

What was that?

Fox quickly turned around to see Darken at his tail. He banked left and right, rolled, pulled his best maneuvers, but the other ship never faltered and correctly followed through on his every move. So, this was really it. It was over.

Throughout his life, Fox was known to be one of the best pilots in his system. He would not call himself the best, but many saw him as such. He never gave up on a fight, not even against overwhelming odds, not even in face of the frightening Andross apparitions and the massive Apparoid invasion. There were times, when he felt overpowered, when he knew the odds were beyond unreal, but he was willing to try and take his chances. But now he felt powerless. He stopped evading, he took his hand off the control stick and fixed his eyes on the horizon.

There he was. Alone in space, inbetween two star systems he did not care about, fighting a conflict he had no interest in. The most renowned pilot in the galaxy, dying in a dogfight with some mercenary. His hands were cold and he felt regret. Not for his life coming to an end, but for how he had spent his most recent years. Away, hiding, bathing in self-pity and regret. Meaningless and empty. Living with ghosts. It all looked like a waste now. What was he leaving behind? Was this how his parents wanted to see him? Throwing away his life for nothing at all?

He folded his hands in his lap peacefully.

"Do it!" He commanded over the general channel.

There was a moment of silence. Fox was lost deep in thought. Was there an afterlife? Will he get to be with his parents again?

A clean voice, bereft of all filters. A voice he knew well, sounded through the radio:

"I'm sorry, Fox."

#

"What did you think you were doing?" Fox started screaming the minute his cockpit opened.

He was not quite sure whether he meant that to Hop, who stood there with her head bowed, or to Weasel. Hop was well aware of her error. She underestimated the situation and overestimated her own capabilities. She saw for herself that this was not a game. She could have lost her life and she nearly did. Many other lives were forfeit that day.

"Mr. Fox, I would like to make a most sincere apology. You see, our situation really is quite dire and I was hoping that…" With a number of quick steps, Fox was now very close to Weasel and looming above his small figure.

"Blackmail! You were hoping that my conscience would prevent me from leaving Hop to in this alone. You used her as a lure!"

Weasel could not think of a quick reply. But Fox had more to say:

"I know nothing about these Zubarians, but there is something very fishy about you, Weasel. I don't know what is going on here, but I want no part in this. You got us here, so you will provide us with quarters and you will allow us to refuel. We desperately need some rest, all of us, I think, but first order of business tomorrow, me and Hop are gone."

A group of Xosian pilots were gathered around watching the exchange.

"But Mr. Fox," Weasel had finally found his voice,"With the blockade in place it may be very difficult, if not impossible, for you to get out."

"Don't you worry, Weasel, we have found a way in, we will find a way out."

#

Weasel hurried down the halls to his office. It took a lot of his effort to get Fox McCloud to Xosos. And he was not willing to lose him now. True, the Zubarian army and their mercenaries held the upper hand in the earlier conflict, but McCloud was still alive. And Weasel had a theory as to why that was. In fact, he had this theory for a while now and the events would only confirm it. There, in his office in one of the file cabinets' drawers - a single file. It had DARKEN printed over it in uppercase.

Yes. There was another former member of Star Fox that Weasel was hoping to approach. In fact, he would be Weasel's choice above Fox McCloud. Eventually, Weasel chose not to approach the person as he found their response way too unpredictable. Besides, his thorough and costly research led him to suspect that the individual in question was already working for the other side. Although events did not unfold the way Weasel imagined, current situation presented him with a unique opportunity. Now was the time to kill two flies with one hand.

#

As Falco steered into the hangar of the Zubarian mothership, he noted the guards awaiting his arrival. Well, he thought, this contract may not last for long.

His hands ran through the landing motions. Once his cockpit had opened, he was greeted by the guards.

"Mr. Darken, we have to ask you to follow us, if you will." One of the guards asked Falco

"Sure, thing, boys. Lead the way." Falco responded with a comical gesture. He paid little attention to the short journey to the bridge. His thoughts were with Fox and the past adventures they have shared together.

The client will be angry, he knew. But how bad could it really be?

#

Back at the Zubarian mothership, things were about to get much more interesting. A large cohort of guards was present and at ease. All fully armed and much more threatening than the security members who had escorted Falco from the hangar. General's personal guard, most likely.

Spyder, his second in command, was already there. He greeted Falco with a disapproving sneer. General Anthoss himself was present. That was a surprise to Falco as he had not met the general before.

The muscular dark rhino towered high in his red and brown Zubarian uniform, its chest full of medals and stars. General's face was scarred and his horn broken. The general's voice was deep and sound:

"We finally meet, Mr. Darken. I have heard much of you. You are affronted by an admirable reputation. I am General Anthoss."

"General." Falco nodded. He suppressed the urge to stand at attention and salute. He was not a soldier and he was not subject to Zubaria.

Anthoss adjusted his cuffling. Then he looked up and stared Falco in the eye for a while. Falco disliked these games. He was never any good at staring people in the eye. What was the whole point?

"So," the general looked around at his men and Spyder, "would you care to explain why you let a number of enemy ships escape back to Xosos?"

Falco was about to respond, when the general continued.

"Perhaps you have failed to notice, but we are at war with the Xosians. And we hired you to act on our behalf in this conflict as a mercenary. It is unnerving that you chose to command the Zubarian forces to withdraw, and then failed to intercept the opposing forces. If you please, I would like to know the motivation behind this. Because, Mr. Darken…" The general leaned forward. "Had you been a soldier in the Zubarian army, this would have been treason."

Spyder hissed. Everyone else was silent. This did not go as well as Falco thought it would.

"It must be very hard for you to explain." The general said as Falco was looking for a believable excuse.

"So let me help you there, Mr. Lombardi."

Falco jumped at hearing his real name. How would they know? There was no way that Anthoss or Spyder or anyone else could find out. He was very careful, he maintained a perfect radio silence with his family on all of the missions... There was nothing that could have possibly given him away.

"You spared a friend, how nice." Hissed Spyder. "But if that friend is an enemy, I wonder what that makes you?"

Falco was known to be short-tempered when not in the cockpit. But now that his veil has been lifted and he had been made vulnerable, he would not tolerate Spyder's insubordinance. He started toward his second in command, but before he could get anywhere, two large guardsmen from the general's personal unit rushed forth and restricted him.

"I won't pretend I fully understand why Mr. Weasel, a bureaucrat in the service of our enemy, found it necessary to inform us of your true identity, but now that we are in possession of this information, we will make a good use of it."

"What are you talking about? Our deal is off. You keep your credits, I walk away. That's how it works. I am not a soldier. My privacy is nothing to you. To any of you." Exclaimed Falco as he struggled to get free of the guards.

Anthoss leaned back in his chair, his eyes met Spyder's and he laughed. He kept smiling as he delivered his announcement:

"Why, Mr. Falco, I think you underestimate the severity of your actions. You have committed a treason against the Zubarian army, agaist me, against Zubaria itself. You have set a dangerous precedent which could lead to certain lack of respect among mercenaries and we can't afford that. Mr. Spyder has already assured me that your whole team fully respects the existing arrangement and will continue to provide us with valuable and well compensated services. This pleases me. However, it is important to set an example for all the other mercenaries out there. I think there are a number of things we can do to ensure that. First, we are going to have to put you behind the bars. You have committed treason, after all. Second, we will dispatch a unit to Fortuna, where, as I was also informed by Mr. Weasel, your family currently resides. Your earlier decision leaves me with no choice but to make sure that we employ measures forceful enough to guarantee an unquestionable respect in the future. Third, I will lead the expedition to Fortuna personally, to ensure and oversee its success."

General had to pause for a moment as his speech was silenced by Falco's outcries and threats. These were ended by a number of direct punches from Spyder, while Falco was held by the guards. Finally, Falco got a word out:

"Are you besides yourself? You know who I am. What do you think is going to happen when the Cornerian army learns of this? You better rethink this while you can."

"But Mr. Lombardi, I am afraid that the good people of Corneria will never learn of this." The general gestured to the guards to take the avian away.

#

As they reached the prison, the first guard remained at the entrance to the cell block.

"Your cell, loser!" The other guard shoved Falco hard toward the open door. That was his opening. In fact, Falco had counted on the guard's cruelty. He knew a shove would come and had prepared himself for it. Correctly judging the timing and distance, he ducked and turned right under the guard's pushing hands. Then, he used all the explosive power of his hamstrings to deliver a crushing blow to the chin. His whole plan relied on that one hit. As his fist connected with the guard's chin, the guard's head jerked back and crashed into the wall, resulting in an instant knockout. Before the body had even hit the floor, Falco was already on the move.

The other guard peeked down the hallway, alerted by noise. A fair amount of distance between them made it impossible for Falco to catch the second guardsman by surprise. As he began to run, he saw the guard reach for his rifle. There was no way for Falco to cover that gap in time.

Unless…

It had been one of Slippy's most useless inventions. Members of Star Fox never found a good use for it and it never served an actual purpose. Dashboots, Slippy would call it. Fox and Falco would use them for a couple of days to race each other in one of the hallways of the Great Fox, but the novelty quickly wore itself out. Drag dash, they would shout excitedly, as Peppy and Slippy would chill with a drink, betting on which of the two would get a faster start. Could it still work? It was the time to find out. As Falco's hand felt for the hidden button, he had made a wish.

ZIP.

There was a blink of surprise on the guards face. His rifle was already in position and locked into his shoulder. His finger pulled the trigger and the first bullet has left the barrel. But Falco was no longer down the hallway. He was now airborne and his knee was mere inches from the guards head and closing in with the speed of light.

Crack.

Falco quickly grabbed the rifle from the unconscious hands of the enemy and started to run.

His gut instinct was urging him to get to the bridge and shoot everyone in that room. Problem solved. However, he was acutely aware he had to suppress the urge. The bridge was too far away and too heavily guarded. The same could not be said of the hangar, though. With Falco being the only prisoner on the ship, and the rest of the crew loyal to the regime, the internal security was far from strict. Any real threat was expected to come from the outside.

It did not take long for Falco to enter the bay. There, in the middle sat the Claw, his black Arwing. It was not the original Claw - that would have given away his identity, but it retained many of the qualities of his signature fighter. By the time Falco had reached the cockpit, a loud alarm sounded throughout the facility. Too late. Once he was seated in the cabin of his fighter, Falco was an unstoppable force.

His black Arwing rose, lasers singing. Number of ships around the hangar bay caught on fire, some exploded. Automated systems filled the area with fire-quenching particles, reducing visibility. Falco set full throttle and bolted into space.

Back on the bridge, Spyder and Anthoss watched the security camera feed.

"I'll end him." Spyder started toward the door.

"No," Anthoss commanded, " leave it. There is nowhere for him to go anyway. We are blockading the planet, the long range communications are disabled. Where will he go? Join the Xosian army?" He erupted with laughter.

"Tomorrow, when you are off to Fortuna, I will take the fleet and end this conflict. It is time for the Darken Legacy to be put to sleep." Hissed Spyder and his eyes followed the quickly diminishing craft.


	5. Reunion

Fox stood on the runway. The early evening was chilly and it was about to rain. This was one hell of a day so far and it was not looking to get much better. The dark silhouette of Falco's Arwing soon appeared against the horizon. It looked different now, but Fox was almost sure that underneath the hood, there were many of the improvements that came from Slippy for the original Claw. His friend landed the ship not far from where Fox stood and quickly jumped out of the cockpit. He was tall, lean and moved with a mixture of military precision and playboy bravado. Fox had noticed his new appearance, dyed feathers matching Falco's chosen moniker - Darken.

Falco was also observing his friend as he approached. It was impossible not to notice that Fox's fur was now sporting patches of gray and that his features have become less defined and more burly.

They walked toward each other, but stopped a few paces apart. Meeting each other's look, they tried to perch through the wide gap of years between them. A tall unflinching pilot with dark feathers and a dark ship and a head shorter fox, who almost felt out of place in the flight suit.

Just recently they clashed with each other. An encounter that almost ended in...

"Fox!"

"Falco!"

They hugged each other with an audible thump and held each other close. They both felt overwhelmed by emotion. Suddenly space and time between them dissipated. Their bond ran deep and could not be broken.

For the first moment in years, Fox did not feel utterly alone. Falco felt lost, helpless and angry.

"They have the location of my family. Kat and the kids." His throat was tight with anger and helplessness.

Fox remained silent.

"There is no way I can get to them in time, Fox. Not with the blockade and the portals down."

"The long range comms are also disabled," said Fox. "But my Arwing still has the May Day machine that Slippy made just for us. It may be ancient technology by today's standards and one-way only, but Slip made it and only he knows how the signal works. It is a long shot, but at least we have something."

"Fox... it is not going to be enough. We don't even know if it works anymore." Falco took a few steps away from his old friend, looking across the runway.

"They won't be able to get here in time… And we won't be able to leave. Spyder will lead my unit here, along with the Zubarian forces. He wants my blood. He senses weakness and will want to make sure to seize the opportunity and take my place as the leader of the Darken Squad. And he will have a massive army to back him up. This will not be a fair fight."

"No, and we can't really count on the Xosonian forces either. I don't trust them. Weasel gave you away and now he is hiding somewhere. This whole situation is quite absurd." Fox paused.

"Fox, listen. It is what it is. If the only means to send a word out that we have at our disposal is that old Slippy's device, let's make sure they head out to Fortuna to protect Kat and the kids. They are the ones that matter, Fox. I don't want them to get distracted by worrying about us."

They just stood there, two old friends. From their sagged postures, nobody could tell that these two used to be the proudest pilots of their system. They saved the galaxy together more than once. And now, this was to be their final play. At the edge of the known space, a place few have ever heard of. Two forgotten titans stood alone in the falling dusk. It started to rain.

Fox came closer to his fellow wingman and put his hand around Falco's shoulders.

"I am rust, Falco, you saw that yourself." He admitted.

"You did good, Fox." Said Falco in a distant voice, his eyes cast at the distant spot where concrete runway met grass.

"I did not. I haven't flown in years. I just don't have the spirit. I gave in a long time ago, Falco. I just ran away." Fox was surprised at his own voice. Surprised, how easy it was to share all this.

"But why, Fox? You never let anyone know. One day we just woke up and you were gone." Falco's voice came out louder than he meant it to be.

"It's my father, Falk. Listen, I never told this to anyone. Not to you, Slip, Peppy, General Pepper, Wolf, or even Kat…"

"Back on Venom, during the Lylat Wars, when I confronted Andross, he was there. I saw him in his Arwing and he led me out of that facility. I saw him again, when we were fighting the Apparoids. When we took on the queen. We all heard some voices, but none of you heard his. It... it just messed with my head."

"Fox... I..." Falco stepped in, but Fox continued, ignoring him.

"I did not know what was real anymore. It must have been the wars, the constant conflict, the stress of it all. I just did not know, Falco. Was he really there? Was I just seeing things... You know, they never found a body, I never had a proof, we never knew for sure. There was never a closure for me." Fox's chin started to tremble. He continued to force the words, even if he no longer had control over his voice.

"It finally came to a close earlier, during our dogfight. You owned me so hard, Falk. I never felt so helpless as a pilot. I just could not out fly you, I could not outfight you. I could not do anything. At that moment, I knew it was over. I just gave in to it and waited for you to fire. At that moment, there was nothing but regret. About how stupid I have been these last years. How, regardless of what happened to my father, whether he was there or whether it had all been an illusion, how this was not what he would have wanted from me. Just running away, giving in, not caring about anything..." Fox's voice broke.

"But you did not fire, Falk."

"You did not fire…"

Fox burried his face into Falco's chest and the dark feathered bird held him close. He could not tell if it were tears or raindrops trailing down his own cheeks, nor did he care.

#

Slippy worked at the bench, surrounded by technology. In his hands he held an irregular white crystal. He was alone in the room, but there were voices around him. Voices he knew. They belonged to his long-time friends. They were calling for him. They were calling his name, begging for help.

Slippy felt the sweat dripping down his forehead, and he knew the sweat drops would eventually travel down towards his magnifying binoculars, staining the lenses, obstructing his view. He tried to focus on the crystal. In his microscopically enhanced vision, he could see the labyrinthine fractal world of its structure. Imprisoned within were Fox, Falco and Peppy. His friends were confined to small shiny rooms, each just a couple of square feet. They banged their fists against the crystalline see-through walls. Within the structure of the crystal, there was one larger, more horrifying apparition. The ape-like face of Andross, the mad scientist. Slippy heard his maniacally laughter. Andross was laughing at Slippy's friends puny attempts to break free. But he was also mocking Slippy's clumsy efforts to liberate his friends from the uncanny prison.

"Your technology is failing you, Frog!" Andross taunted the engineer.

"All your toys… failing you." The ape leaned forth and his face became a kaleidoscope of a thousand refractions. Each of them watched Slippy with contempt.

"You are failing your friends as everyone always knew you would. Everyone knows you are useless. A stuttering clumsy old fool. It is your friends who will now have to pay the price."

"No!" Cried Slippy. "No!"

Suddenly, there was darkness everywhere.

"It's OK, Slippy, it is just a bad dream. Gosh, it must have been something dreadful." His partner, Amanda, was clutching his arms. She must have been trying to wake Slippy up for a while now.

"But my friends… I failed them… Andross was right!" Slippy, still disoriented, protested. It was all so real.

"It was a dream, Slippy. Andross is gone, you and Star Fox defeated him years ago. More like decades, even. It will be alright, honey."

Slippy stood up from the bed. His chest was thumping and he felt faint.

"I am just going to grab a glass of water, I am really sweaty and my throat is sore."

He slipped into his lab and turned the lights on. His eyes darted towards the bench. It was empty. There were no tools, no crystal, and, certainly, no Andross. He exhaled loudly and let his shoulders sag. He felt relieved. The glass of water had been an excuse just a minute ago, but now it felt like a good idea. Slippy approached the sink and poured himself a some water. He turned back to the room and took a sip. As he swallowed, he noticed there was a little red blinking LED light on one of the gizmo's in the junk corner of his lab. It took him a moment to realize what purpose that particular device had served. It was the May Day device! Slippy spluttered the water and ran across the lab. His friends were in danger!

#

"This reminds me of the battle above Corneria." called out Fox over the radio. They were low above the Xosian sea and headed away from the coast. The main force of the Xosian army was left behind as the last line of defense. That, and Fox did not trust them at all.

"Was it pouring like this?" Hop asked. She insisted on coming and Fox relented.

"No, it was not." The Xosian sun was coming up. Here and there, read beams of light had found their way through.

"But once again, we seem to be facing the impossible. Right, Falco?"

There was no response. Falco's mind was systems away, with Kat and his family.

Ahead of them, the enemy forces started popping up on the radar as they descended from the atmosphere.

#

Fortuna was not known to be a popular tourist destination. Most of the planet was wild. Its flora and fauna was unique and wonderful to behold, but planet's ferociously hostile creatures made it a dangerous place. That worked for both Falco and Kat as they were looking for a place hidden, distant and unknown enough that Falco's mercenary life would not put them in any danger. When a small group of Cornerian scientists, who were fascinated by the planet's ecosystem, announced their plans to establish an expedition on the planet's surface, both Kat and Falco jumped at the opportunity.

Fortuna offered a good life - the small colony prospered and its inhabitants were able to establish a safe perimeter. Aside from the largest of creatures, nothing was much of a threat. That was, until now.

"We have them on radar." Slippy called out. He ducked as a large Arwing flew low over the Landmaster.

"Roger that, heading out to meet them." Peppy Hare, by now a retired general of the Cornerian army, rushed to Fortuna as soon as Slippy let him know about the message Fox and Falco sent out.

Slippy ran his eyes across the control panels he had build around the driver's seat in the Landmaster. His eyes focused on the group of monitors providing tactical information. He saw the enemy forces on the radar, tactical map and also via a number of cameras streaming live from Landmaster's armor vantage points. Their optical zoom capabilities were optimized for galactic observation, so zooming across tens of clicks across planetary surface was fairly easy. The sight of the enemy did not bolster Slippy's morale. Rather than a small unit, this felt more like an invasion army. They were closing in fast.

Slippy positioned the Landmaster about a click from the first village houses, on a small elevated plateau. To the left and right, of the tank, there were portable defensive cannon's, manned by the colonists of the expedition force. Slippy knew that these weapons were not designed to penetrate vehicle armour. This could happen only if such armor had suffered previous damage and under concentrated fire from multiple posts. Alone, the small laser cannons were not strong enough. Slippy kept this to himself. In his eyes, a fighting chance was better than nothing.

"Kat, you there and ready?" Slippy's voice was squeaky by nature. Many made the mistake of thinking that it stemmed from Slippy's character, dismissing the frog as a potential threat.

"I am here." Replied Kat in a matter of fact tone. They never spoke about this moment. Never acknowledged it could come. Falco's job was potentially dangerous, yes, but underneath all his flamboyant playboy act, Falco was careful to pick his stint's and not mix with madmen or situations that were too political. Only this time, it seemed he did not do enough of due diligence. Now it was up to Kat to protect their children and herself. She was thankful that their old friends form Star Fox, Peppy and Slippy came to help. Moreover, they were joined by Bill and Dash, longtime friends and allies, who happened to be visiting at the time.

"How many, Slip?" Kat wanted to know.

"It's not a small number." Said the frog.

"How many?" Demanded Kat.

"Sixty five." Slippy let on.

"Damn this." Complained Peppy. He touched a couple of controls on the flight deck to open up a general comm channel.

"This is general Pepper of the Cornerian army speaking. Identify yourselves. Be warned that any act of aggression will be treated as an attack on Corneria itself. I suggest you either turn around and leave or slow down to land and let yourself be taken in."

Peppy knew it was an empty gesture, but with no trumps down their sleeves, a little bluff was all they could do.

"They are slowing down!" Slippy announced excitedly.

"This is Anthoss, general of the Zubarian forces. I really enjoyed your bluff. Unfortunately, we don't see the Cornerian army here. Or any army, for that matter. I will give you that your small presence is unexpected. On the other hand, taking down the remnants of Star Fox will be fun."

"What do you mean by remnants?" Kat's heart started to race.

"He is just toying with us, Kat. Fox and Falco are not so easy to overcome. Especially if paired together." Peppy replied quickly.

"True. Fortunately, it is just a matter of time before my statement becomes the truth. This battle will be remembered as the last futile stand by Star Fox. Sixty five ships against four. Not much of a fight, I must admit. I will enjoy it nevertheless." Then, Anthoss gave the order in a chill voice. He made sure it was public and audible to everyone.

"Kill every single one of them and bombard the village!"

The response on Slippy's radar was immediate.

"Bogey's picking up speed and approaching fast, breaking into three groups." Yelled Slippy. "Fifteen bogey's on point, two groups of twenty-five moving in direction of four and eight o'clock to perform a flanking maneuver."

"Bill, you will take on the group headed for four, I will take the one headed for eight. Kat, Dash, you will enagage the lead force - the Anthoss's squad." Peppy had more years of combat under his sleeve than anyone. He was perfectly calm in his command. He knew that him and Bill stood no chance against the odds, but he sounded like he was about to take a stroll. Him and Bill just needed to buy some time for the others. If they manage to take Anthoss down, the rest of the Zubarrian force may break up. Kat was an extraordinary pilot, one with plenty of experience. Protecting her children back in the village, this was all-in for her. Peppy wanted to give her all the support he could.

"If you want to take my family, you will have to go through me." Exclaimed Kat. She was not going down without a hell of a fight.

"Come on, Dash, let's take down the leader."

Had Slippy not been a part of this, he would think he is watching a movie. Through all his screens he could see four lonesome ships quickly progress towards much more numerous enemy squads. All his friends were ace pilots, yet it meant little against such odds. And he was sat down in a tank. Him and his toys. He laid his eyes on the main control stick, which allowed for manual control of the Landmaster and its large cannon. He could not remember when he had last touched it. For years now, he would control the tank through a set of control panels connected to automated targeting systems and auxiliary tactical co-processors. He built it all himself. Down to every single wire, every single contact, every single screw.

He recalled his dream. Again, his system was perfect. If it came to it, it was much more accurate and much more likely to intercept an enemy than any sentient human being could ever be. But what if… somehow… it still failed? The memory of his friends trapped in the multi-faceted crystal arose in front of his eyes, along with Andross's face.

The enemy fighters were still some distance away. Six minutes away from the Landmaster range. About four minutes away from an encounter with Bill, Kat, Dash and Peppy. These would be the longest minutes of his life. Despite all his monitors, systems and tools, he did not feel he was in control and he felt utterly powerless because of that.


	6. Battle On Two Fronts

"They are everywhere!" Fox furiously looked over his shoulder after a near-miss with an incoming enemy. He banked hard right and followed up with a barrel roll to avoid a volley of shots from an enemy strafing run. Even before his fighter was stabilized, he fired two quick bursts, each finding its target.

The battle on Xosos was much fiercer than the one that took place a day before above the planet. Fox was glad that he allowed Hop to come along. The battle was a mess. There were fighters and lasers everywhere. The last time Fox had experienced something as intense was during Lylat Wars, in the battles of Katina and Venom.

"Falco, where are you?" Fox shouted.

"Something's wrong with him." Hop responded as she shot down an incoming fighter, which was attempting to overtake Fox.

Fox struggled to avoid four different enemy fighters. There were far too many.

Falco Lombardi had turned the communications off. He had a cloud of enemy fighters on his tail. Some were Zubarian, some were mercenaries he had led up until recently. There was a volley of incoming fire. Dark Claw, his signature black Arwing, was moving in ways that would leave top acrobatic pilots beset with envy. He was hurling the fighter into stalls, erratic break-neck maneuvers and momentum transitions where, even with all supportive systems, it was next to impossible for the body to retain consciousness. He jumped using a sudden thrust, used emergency brake thrusters in the middle of a screwdriver sommersault to unpredictably change his trajectory, performed crazy stunts to spin his Arwing like a throwing star. He could see the enemy ships break formation with confusion, scramble, collide with each other and fly off in completely random directions as the overload made their pilots to faint.

He was overcome with contempt. Losers, he thought, they can't even touch me. The enemy had superiority in numbers and what seemed like an infinite amount of reinforcements. And Falco was not even giving them a fight. He was just piloting to steer clear of their enemy attacks. To him, the fight did not matter. The real event was taking place on Fortuna. Falco felt bitter for being stuck on Xosos, while his friends and family were under assault by trained military force. He was as helpless as the situation was hopeless. It was only a matter of time, before he made a mistake. Eventually one of his pursuers will get lucky and then, all it will take… just one stray shot.

#

On fortuna, Slippy was intently watching the radar distance to conflict. It read one minute, four seconds. The closer the countdown got to zero and the nearer the enemy ships had become on the radar, the more hopeless he felt. Star Fox had faced fiercer enemies, but seldom worse odds.

"Reading more ships entering atmosphere behind the enemy fleet. These must be enemy reinforcements. Peppy, we need to rethink this!" Slippy Toad's heart sank as the countdown reached 40 seconds.

"Still easily overcome by fear, toad?" A deep coarse voice came through on the general channel. It was the voice of someone who lived on the edge and often peeked beyond. The most feared space pirate in the galaxy.

"Wolf?" Kat mused.

"Who is this?" Demanded Anthoss. Slippy noted the enemy ships slowing down to asses the situation.

"Commander Peppy, team Star Wolf requesting permission to engage the enemy. We are hoping for some bounty!" A different voice, equally deep, but this time with a musical intonation to it. To the ears of those who knew the bearer, it was quite a happy tune.

"Panther!" Yelled Slippy.

"Frog, long time no tease! Listen, we have Leon here, as well as a sizeable group of young scoundrels you have not yet had the pleasure to meet. We'll have these losers biting the dust in no time!"

Slippy looked at the countdown. It was fifteen seconds to conflict. The two groups that Bill and Peppy were about to engage with faltered and were trying to reposition. With Star Wolf in their rear the odds evened out for those two.

"Kat, Dash, you are on your own. Anthoss's group is too far ahead. Wolf's forces won't get to them in time." Slippy announced.

And then it was T - 0. The battle was on.

#

Wolf O'Donnel never got to graduate the Cornerian Academy. The death of his mother followed by a betrayal from a close friend had led to him being expelled and set him on a dark path.

Wolf, late in his teens, a young adolescent, resolved himself to never let others hurt him again.

His desire for control and self-protection was absolute and became the driving force behind his reputation. Entering the dark society of space pirates, Wolf challenged the status quo of anyone and everyone. He soon dominated the scene by his ferocity and brute force. There was need for politics, of course. To control a society as distributed as the space pirates and smugglers, required a finer approach.

Pigma, who later turned out the be the the one responsible for Wolf getting expelled from the Academy (and he was also the one who betrayed Fox's father, James), this very Pigma, took care of the politics. His shadowy skills enabled both him and Wolf to rise in power in the underworld. Later, when Pigma had met his deserved fate in the Apparoid wars, it was Panther who stepped in to maintain respect toward Wolf in the community. His methods were much different from Pigma's and Wolf has gone from being feared and oftentimes loathed, to being respected and even revered.

Wolf was no king of pirates, certainly not in any official manner. He garnered no such ambition. What he wanted to ensure, though, was that everyone, individuals and institutions alike, knew not to mess with Wolf and his. And while mostly everyone got the memo, it seemed like Zubarians have missed a meeting.

Or perhaps, they missed the connection between Wolf and Fox. After all, they used to stand on the opposite sides for most of their mutual history.

This had changed during the wars with Apparoids. The fate of the whole system was at stake and if Wolf was ever driven by anything, it was a sense of self-preservation. Everyone was taken by surprise as Wolf and his group of pirates intervened on behalf of Corneria. Wolf quickly learned how much he and Fox had in common. Both orphaned at an early age, both having difficulty to put a long term, intimate trust in others, both eaten alive by a persistent and all-pervading anxiety and well concealed lack of self-esteem.

They had never had much chance to spend time together, but when they finally did, they took liking to each other. More than that. They had found understanding and acceptance. In each other, they had someone who could understand, without words, what they were each going through. Thet could be themselves in each other's company. Confident, content, unguarded. Authentic. Many would probably be struck with disbelief had they witnessed Wolf serving Fox pancake breakfast to bed.

Wolf chuckled at the recollection.

And then, Fox left him. Not just Wolf. Fox had left everyone behind. He just disappeared. All that Wolf was left with, was an apologetic note on the fridge.

Despite that, and for the first time in his life, Wolf was not angry. He understood. There was no anger, there was no grudge. Only sadness. A deep horizon-spanning feeling of loss and grief. He knew what drove Fox to his decision. So he decided to wait, in the hope that one day, Fox would be able to address his demons and come back.

When Wolf had received Slippy's message he knew he would not get to Zubaria in time. He made some calls, sent some notes, spoke to some shady characters. He called on favours. Then he went straight to Fortuna.

He was in quite a foul mood.

"Wolf just took out four enemy fighters!" Slippy called out over the radio. He was teeming with joy.

"Five!"

The battle was still uneven, but it was no longer hopeless. The pirates were ruthless, had the advantage of surprise on their side and a very angry leader, whom they also respected very much. Zubarians were in an unknown teritorry, with no hope of reinforcements and in their hearts, many may have doubted their leader and their mission.

Much further from them, Dash and Kat were facing Anthoss and his elite squadron.

#

"Falco, I don't know what's going on, but I could really do with some help here." Fox was trying to stay calm, but his straining voice gave away the levels of stress he was facing right now. There were enemies all around and only thanks to a lucky barrel roll or two was Fox still alive. There was radio silence.

It was time to improvise. Fox slowed down a little and kept his evasion maneuvers to the minimum to allow a group of enemy fighters to align behind him. Then he pulled back on the control stick to perform a full sommersault, only to dive headfirst against the water surface.

"Fox!" Hop yelled before her friend's Arwing hit the water.

Flat. Or at least somewhat flat with the belly. That was the key. This was a really old trick and a risky one at that. Unless the timing, angle and speed were spot on, there was a real risk of the ship breaking itself against the surface. However, if one did it just about right, the craft would just bounce off the water and continue its flight. Fox used to tease his instructors with this move while at the Academy. That was decades ago.

As the watter filled his view, he pulled back on the control stick and held his breath for a moment.

He still had it. He felt his Arwing bounce against the water surface like a skipping stone. He used a combination of thrust and rotation to take advantage of the kinetic energy of the bounce. He was able to put some good distance between himself and his pursuers. At least half of their number were now out of the fight and about to drown, as they were too slow to react. The rest scrambled in all directions.

"The oldest trick in the book, guys." Fox waved to the fighters now at various stages of disarray in the waves.

This bought him some time. He performed another u-turn. There was a large swarm of enemies ahead - a group that must have been on Hop's tail just a moment ago, but now got disoriented by Fox's stunt. As Hop was clear of this group, Fox saw a clear window of opportunity.

"Here we go." He announced as he dispatched the last smartbomb he had.

A large explosion caught the enemy off-guard and swallowed most of their number. Those not impacted by the blast flew off in all directions. Some were just leaving the battle, shaken and too panicked by the resourcefulness of the enemy.

Fox took a moment to take a deep breath. Had he forgotten to breathe the past few moments? They were too intense. He made a large turn left and started looking for Falco. Suddenly the fur on his neck went all stiff. There was a bogey on his back.

"Last time, I underestimated you. I will not make the same mistake again." The signature hiss gave the speaker away.


	7. Old Tricks

"I'm hit. I'm hit!" Cried Dash over the radio, as heavy smoke burst out of the engine of his craft. The pursuing fighter did not relent. Dash was feverishly trying to evade, but his fighter barely wiggled from side to side. Kat bit her lips. Her and Dash achieved the impossible by taking out all of the enemy fighters. All but two. The one that had his lock on Dash, and Anthoss himself. Despite the odds, she managed to outmaneuver, outsmart and outgun the enemy and now it was down to her dogfight with Anthoss, in which she had the upper hand. The catch was, in order to save Dash, she would have to disengage the enemy general, which, in turn, would mean that he would have a free path to the village. To her family. And between them just the ground guns manned by the colonists - and Kat suspected these would not stop a fly - and Slippy. Slippy… Would she trust the life of her children to the frog's skills? Slip has always been, first and foremost an engineer. Not that he would not be a capable fighter, he could certainly hold up his own. But he was not the best marksman in Star Fox. He was nowhere near Fox or Falco, nowhere near Dash or Bill or even the members of Star Wolf.

"Kat! He is going to kill me!" Dash was losing it.

Kat's thoughts were racing. Would Falco trust Slippy in this situation? She knew he would make a snark comment, he would say something smart or hurtful. But would he actually trust Slippy? Leave the lives of his dearest in his hands?

"Darn it, Dash!" Kat yanked the control stick, pulling a U-turn. Within seconds, she rolled over the wing and leveled her plane, locking the enemy fighter in her crosshair. Her eyes became misty as she pulled the trigger. Through her tears, she saw the enemy aircraft explode. Dash was safe to eject now, but she threw away her chance to catch up to Anthoss.

"This has to be one stupid family." Roared general Anthoss over the general channel and continued:

"You'd rather sacrifice each other, than sacrifice your friends. Darken made a bad call back then above Xosos and you made yours just now."

He was approaching the village at full speed. The village came into his view. It won't be long untill he is in range. A number of small ground guns started opened fire. They did no more damage then raindrops would.

"This will teach you to mess with Zubaria! For victory!" As his finger came into contact with the trigger, he saw a small blue flash coming from somewhere just outside the village. Probably some loser with a pop-gun, he thought.

"You know what they say?" A squeaky voice came through on the radio.

"If you see the flash, its already too late."

There was a loud electric boom, as the Landmaster cannon released its heavy charge, transforming the pent-up energy into a fast moving energy particle pulse that hit Anthoss's ship just as it was taking over the tank and approaching borders of the village. The Zubarian general never got to fire. Instead, his craft became a burning carcass that crashed into the ground a few meters ahead of the first house. All the portable guns turned to fire in his direction, piercing what little was left of his vessel, bringing about a large explosion to seal the general's fate.

"Slippy!" Shouted Kat angrily. "That was a charged unlocked shot. You used manual controls! What on Corneria came into you. You could have missed!"

"I could have, but I didn't, did I?" The frog was beaming with pride. He was finally able to dismiss his nightmare and prove it false. He would always save his friends in time of need.

"Everything that matters to me hinged on that shot." Kat explained, her voice trembling.

"I know." Slippy's voice was quiet and dead serious. "That is why I took full responsibility. I hope you don't hate me now."

"Time to kiss the frog." Joked Wolf on the radio.

#

Fox has had it. His crazy stunt may have helped him score a minor victory, but the new threat was much worse than the one before. Spyder had underestimated Fox before. He was careless and cocky. Fox won't be benefiting from the same mistake this time around. The air was teeming with enemy fighters once again. And he had Spyder on his tail.

"Damn you, Falco!" He yelled. "I have bogeys on my tail, I have bogeys coming from the flanks, I have bogeys above and below. If you don't feel like these guys pose enough of a challenge then maybe I can join them right now! How is that for a fight?"

The cockpit shook, as the Arwing grazed another vehicle during one of the evasive manuevers. Fox struggled with the controls momentarily. Risking a guick glance over his shoulder, he saw three different ships coming at him, guns blazing.

WHOOSH. An explosion shook the Arwing and threw it off course.

Dang, thought Fox. They finally got me.

#

"What was THAT?" Falco woke up from his lethargic state, as a giant beam cut through the sky. He looked around to quickly asses the situation. He strayed away from the main battle and only had three or four smaller fighters following him. The others have joined Spyder in pursuit of Fox. A swarm of ships surrounded the lonely white Arwing. Four of the ships were burning - the beam must have hit all of them at once.

That shot. There was only one gun that sounded like this. Great Fox. But Great Fox, here? Who was losing his mind and imagining things now?

"This is General Pepper, Falco, do you read?"

"General?" Falco was perplexed as he switched to a Cornerian military frequency.

"Yes, it's me. Peppy and Slippy had to be elsewhere. From what I heard, the frog turned to be quite a hero this day, saving your family and all that."

Tears welled into Falco's eyes.

"Slip saved my family?"

The old dog's chuckle sounded like a cough of a dying man.

"He sure did. Bill, Dash and Star Wolf were there to help. Actually, Wolf must have activated all of the pirates in the universe, given the hell they are unleashing on Zubaria right now. Falco, listen up, we just wasted a lot of energy on the longest and luckiest shot of my career and it will take us a while before the Great Fox can fire again. If you don't do something, we will probably bury Fox today."

Falco had become so pre-ocuppied with feeling sorry for himself and angry at the situation, he has given up on the fight. He saw the swarm of ships closing-in on Fox, he saw Hop's ship take a number of hits.

They were out there alone.

Falco cursed and hoped there was still some time.

#

The controls in the cockpit were throwing on a light show. Everything was loud and beeping. The cabin was trembling. Fox suffered some bad hits and more were coming. It was the Spyder. Fox could not shake him off. Especially now that his ship was damaged. Where the enemy fighters lacked Spyder's accuracy, their numbers eventually proved that statistical chance can't be denied..

This was bad. The ship could not take any more hits and he was all out of tricks. The Arwing was no longer in a fighting condition. He pulled the control stick towards his belly and rose, perpendicular to the ocean. He threw in a barrel roll. Anything to buy time. He quickly glanced over his shoulder.

There were five ships were on his tail. Four, three , two…

One by one the enemy fighters disappeared in flames. A strafing run carried out with deadly accuracy. Fox's heart jumped. That could only mean!

"Darken!" Spider gasped on the general channel as he gave up chasing Fox to evade the incoming fire.

"I should NEVER have partnered with scum like you." The poison in Falco's voice was palpable. He was known to be a prima donna and even friends complained about his talking them down. But this was a completely different league.

"Too bad that Anthoss failed to take down your family. I was planning to do that myself, but I wanted to be here to see your end." Spyder hissed.

"Then watch and learn." Falco was right behind Spyder's craft. Not lined up for a shot yet, but close and following Spyder's every move as if they were tied together.

Spyder performed a fast barrel roll, then another one, then a double roll, one to the left, immediately followed by another to the right. The second one came unexpectedly and Falco lost sight of his opponent.

"You are far too old, Darken, and you like to play it safe. You leave all the interesting jobs on the table. You being old and all righteous." Spyders craft passed right in front of Falco's Claw. The bird steered furiously after it.

"If you have last wishes, it's time to say them now. Perhaps I could deliver the news of your passing to your family, eh, Darken?"

Falco turned to see Spyder descending straight on him. He saw the shots coming and knew there was nothing he could do. But at least, he could deny him the victory. He knew there was a good chance that he would be shot down today. But he would not be shot down by Spyder, he thought as he shut the engine down and sent the Claw straight into the ocean.

#

"You can't mean this, Falco!" Fox screamed when he saw what happened to Claw.

He saw the last few moments of the dogfight. He could enjoy the luxury, since the enemy forces were now being taken care of by the Cornerian army.

"Coward!" Spyder vented his disappointment on the public channel, flying low over the water surface. "Your friend is a coward, Fox. Robbing me of my victory. You were always a coward, Darken. And you died like one."

Suddenly, a mass of water came apart with a loud roar, as the Black Arwing rose from the waves as if it were some mystical whale. The engines shut down for a second or two and then came back on. The Claw was in flight and on Spyder's tail.

"Just for the record: My name is Falco Lombardi, I am the best pilot in the galaxy and you… are toast." Falco's voice loomed over the salvo of shots that came from his ship. He took a sharp turn to the right, avoiding the explosion that engulfed his former mercenary lieutenant.

"You can't mean this, Falco," repeated Fox. "This is the second lamest trick in the history of the Academy!"

"Yeah, but only one pilot has ever been able to pull it off." Falco laughed.

"I guess its two now." Fox felt a massive relief as Spyder's ship had finally crashed in the waves. This one was unlikely to come back up.

The Sky around them was teeming with ships. Large Cornerian dreadnoughts, fighter planes and of course, the Great Fox. Fox ignored the blaring noises coming from the ship's controls. It was bad, but not too bad for him not to be able to guide the ship home aboard the Great Fox.

"All units, report-in." He called for his wingmen.

"I can't believe I am alive." Hop said.

"Never felt better." Came from Falco.

"General Pepper, sir, what brings an old dog to a place like this?" Fox addressed the Great Fox.

"Smugglers, son." The general responded in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Smugglers?" Asked Falco.

"Yes, Mr. Darken," smirked the general, "smugglers."

Fox could not help but grin at the General's remark. For once, someone elese took Falco down with a snarky quote.

"Mr. Weasel has misinformed you, Fox. The reason Xosians had no alliances was not with the fact that they were a young nation, but with the fact they were a smuggling operation. Easy enough to run at the edge of the known space. However, their neighbouring planet, Zubaria, also neck-deep in smuggling operations, felt like acquiring another business. A hostile take-over of competition, if you will. Of course, all on the highest political levels."

"It would have worked for Anthoss. Had Weasel not persuaded Hop to come along with him." Fox noted.

"Yeah. I would have made sure of their victory against the Xosians." Acknowledged Falco. Only to have Spyder stab me in the back down the road, he thought.

"You know, Fox." The avian continued. "After all the big wars we have been through, I really feel like this local bout was the most taxing of all our adventures. Maybe we are too old for this, after all."

"If you youngsters say so…" General Pepper chuckled once again.


	8. Overture

It was a late summer day on Xosos. The eponymous capital of the planet was no Corneria. It lacked the size, it lacked the density, it lacked the population, it lacked the grandeur. But maybe one day… It sure felt a lot like Corneria, with it's bright green plains, surrounded by mountains on one side and fair beaches on the other.

There was a gathering in one of the parks. There were officials, city representatives and even the governor himself. There were crowds, of course. On the outskirts, children were running around with toy Arwings, pretending to be famous pilots and heroes.

"I am Falco! I am the best, you all guys have no idea how to fly." A small boy shouted at the group of kids, toy-plane held high and performing a sommersault.

"I am Kat and I think you are full of talk." Cute braided girl in a wheelchair went after him, turning the purple plane left and right.

"And I am Wolf." Exclaimed an overweight piglet. "You will give me your lunchboxes at once."

Not far away from them, their parents watched the new governor give his speech. One that was about to introdce a new future.

The governor stood on the podium. Behind him loomed a massive statue of a pilot in his Arwing. It was a fox and his face was obscured by large dark shades.

"… this statue is here to remind us of where we come from. We have to make our own choices, if we are to be happy, and we must take control of our own lives. We can't live in the shadow of the past, but it serves us well to remember our legacy. "

The speech was met with an outstanding ovation. As the crowds cheered and clapped, squadrons of Arwings flew over. After them came a massive ship. A symbol tasked with protecting both Xosos and Zubaria, a newly born federation. Fireworks shot in all directions from the Great Fox. It was a glorious day.

"It was a great speech, Fox. I am proud of you." Wolf stood in a long line of those ready to congratulate Fox on his new role.

"Thanks, Wolf. I will see you later?" He was not sure what the response would be. Fox and Wolf became close and Fox has left Wolf without much of a word. But with Wolf being appointed as the new chief in command of joint Xoso-Zubarian forces, they had a lot of time ahead of themselves.

"Yeah, cub. With this new arrangement, we will be seeing each other a lot. Not a bad thing, eh?" Wolf smiled and winked. He stood shyly for a moment and then darted forth and gave Fox a strong hug.

"I missed you."

They relished the comfort of each others arms for a short while. There was a polite cough. Fox and Wolf stepped apart form each other, Wolf rested his hand on Fox's forearm for a brief moment and then took his leave. It was Falco and Kat.

"It is good to see both of you here." Fox said.

"It's good to have you back in our lives, Fox." Said Kat.

"You seem to have a very positive impact on Falco, Fox. He came to realize his previous profession might put us under a tiny bit of danger."

"Well, may be too thrilling, even for my liking." Said Falco. The avian stood in front of Fox wearing a Cornerian uniform. No the standard army make, but a more fashionable kind. The one that was worn by the Cornerian Academy head instructors.

"We don't grow any younger," shrugged Fox,"but perhaps there is still time for us to grow a little wiser." He wrapped his arm around Falco's shoulders.

"Well well, if it isn't Fox McCloud himself. I remember when you were still a baby." The company turned and they were all delighted to find a most faithful of friends. Peppy Hare was accompanied by Slippy Toad. These two, together with Falco and Fox were the members of the original Star Fox team. Having served with Fox's father, Peppy was their senior and although Fox was the leader, Peppy stood as a mentor to them all. The old rabbit's fur was now almost exclusively gray, with a small patch of brown around the eyes. They hugged each other in turn and when their welcome was complete, they turned to the frog.

"How's the Landmaster, Slip?" Fox wore a large grin and they all laughed at that remark.

"It's doing great, Fox. The manual still works." Slippy wanted to gesture along, but he ended up spilling his drink over his shirt.

Next up was general Pepper, who was even older than Peppy. Everyone in Star Fox had utmost respect for the general.

"Just look at you," he told Fox, while standing perfectly at ease in the military form. "Governor Fox McCloud. His closest ally and space-renowned pirate now an admiral of the Xoso-Zobarian fleet and Falco Lombardi an academy head instructor. Dear me, where is the world headed, I pray?"

Fox laughed and saluted. Despite having known the general for years, their communication was still very formal.

"That.." General pointed with his head towards the large statue of James McCloud in his Arwing,"That almost sounded like you came to grips with your loss." His eyes squinted, carefully studying Fox's face for reaction.

"I have deeply missed my father growing up, sir. As I have missed him in all those difficult moments. Falco has bravado and big mouth, Slippy may be extremely sharp and Peppy is wise beyond measure, but there were many times where I wished to have my father at my side to rely on, for his authority, guidance and protection. I did not have that and thus, it was sometimes difficult to rely on others. But as I tried to express in my speech, it is good to know where we come from, but also to realize who we are and what we were given."

The general put a hand on Fox's shoulder.

"Well said, my boy. I shall be going now, as they will expect me back on Corneria soon. They will probably try to lure me into signing my retirements papers."

As the general took his leave, they all saluted.

And lastly, there was Hop. She waited for everyone to disperse and then approached Fox shyly.

"Wow. I guess you are back to being a legend now."

"Oh, come on, kid." Said Fox, who became abruptly aware of the formality of the event. He began to walk slowly along the grass and Hop followed.

"I really wanted to apologize. I acted in a rash manner and I have put everybody's lives in danger. I wanted to follow in your footsteps and I thought there was a grand case. I wanted adventure and I thought I was ready, but I know now that I am far from it. It was very scary back there and I almost did not make it out alive."

"Don't worry, Hop. We are all adults and we acted of our own free will. You have the making of a grand pilot and I am sure they will turn you into an ace in the academy. After all, you will be instructed by the best." His eyes found Falco in the crowd. Him and Kat were in a lively conversation with General Pepper, Peppy, Slippy and some officers. A bit further away from them stood Wolf. A glass in hand, he was leaning against a large maple surrounded by the fallen leaves. It was the start of the season now. Wolf was looking at Fox. This was their chance to get old together.

#

"Mr. Weasel?"

The fugutive jerked his head. How did they find him, who? He must get out now.

"Please, do remain seated." A very strong hand clutched his shoulder. The grip wasn't painful. But it was certainly very very firm. As he relaxed back in his chair, the hold loosened. The newcomer took a few steps to walk around the table and sat in front of Mr. Weasel.

"Name's Wolf, Wolf O'Donnel. You may have heard of me, yes?" The large canine beast gleamed. There was a dangerous glint in his one good eye. The other was covered by a patch.

Weasel felt his throat tighten.

"THE Wolf O'Donnel?", he managed to say.

"Ha! I knew I would like you! You are sharp. Yes, the very one. That would be me." Wolf punched the table with his fist and waved at the waiter. His behaviour won them some attention. Weasel felt even less comfortable than before.

Wolf lit a large cigar.

"You know, Mr. Weasel, I feel like your role in the recent events has been underappreciated. Many good things would not have happened had you not set events in motion." Wolf let out a large cloud of smoke. Then he looked his frightened listener in the eye as he continued:

"You wanted to save your country - and you did. You made the whole system a safer place doing so. Last but not least, you helped bring some of the finest personalities of our time out of retirement to do some more good. Veeeeery commendable, if you ask me."

Weasel allowed himself a shy smile.

"Thank you, Mr. O'Donnel. I haven't thought of it that way." He shrugged.

Wolf put the large cigar onto the ashtray. He did so very carefully, so he could light it up again.

"I know he said. That's why I wanted to find you. I am so glad I did." He winked and grinned.

"Haha, yes." Weasel shifted in his seat.

Wolf produced a small silver card from his chest pocket.

"Here is what," he said. "Given the circumstances, it is a little hard to give you a level of formal recognition - I am sure you understand - but I had always been of the opinion that you deserve to be rewarded for your actions, if discreetly. Don't you agree?"

"I mean, it would be nice, yes." Weasel said, though he was not quite certain of it.

"That's what I'm saying! So this here," Wolf waved the silver card. " This here is a key to a ship that's parked in the hangar. That ship will take you wherever you may want to go. It has a card with plenty of credits on it and, more importantly, a whole new identity for you to live under. No more running, no more hiding. Now. How does that sound?"

Weasel gulped.

"That sounds almost too good to be true, to be honest. I could not wish for anything more. Are you sure about this, is this for real?"

There was this gleaming smile again.

"Of course it is. You can go check the ship out right now. You know, Mr. Weasel, Fox McCloud is really special to me. We go way back and there are feelings, you know? I am glad you've helped him back on the right track."

"I guess I am happy to have helped then." Weasel slowly reached for the card. Wolf moved quickly and pushed it into his reach.

"Take it, you have deserved it. One thing though - this will stay between the two of us, right? As a scoundrel to scoundrel?" He winked again.

#

The ship was real, even if the model wasn't brand new. The new identity was also real. Just like Wolf said: No more running, no more hiding. Weasel could not hold laughter back. After all he had done, he got to walk free. Free and wealthy. His hands touched the navigational computer and he put in the coordinates for Corneria. A little villa on one of its beautiful beaches was all he needed for his life to be complete. He set the destination and switched over to the autopilot.

CONFIRM? Red letters shone across the screen. He touched the corresponding control.

SELF-DESTRUCT COMMAND CONFIRMED

10…

9…

8…

#

Wolf was enjoying his drink and the cigar. He did not really smoke anymore, this was a one-off thing that reminded him of the old times. Back when he had to fight for everyone's respect and maintain a reputation. One that sends a very clear message - nobody messes with Wolf or his friends.

A receiver on the table started flashing red. It flashed for about ten seconds. Then, a long interval of red light which finally faded back to black. Wolf raised a toast to an empty seat.

"Boom!" He grumbled.

Fox would not approve. Neither would Slippy, Peppy or Falco. But they will never know. The wreck will contain an ID of a person they've never heard about. A regrettable accident. One of many.

Wolf left a pile of credits on the table before he left, along with a large tip. He put the cigar down on another a table as he passed, winking at the surprised lady and patting her irritated partner on the head. After all, this was a throwback evening. And he had a reputation to maintain.

#

"Is there nobody here to challenge me." Vin shook his head as his last opponent has left the chair. The gepard and the bull were in their seats as always. They would play anyone. They loved the game, but did not care about winning.

"I could do with a game." A somewhat familiar voice sounded from the crowd. It took The crocodile a moment to recognize its owner.

"Hop? Little Hop? Come 'ere, girl. Finally a challenge!"

The rabbit smiled. She put down her hat and shook Vin's hand. She could not help but to notice how the crocodile's eyes have widened as they scanned her uniform and the medals.

"That would be Cadet Hop," the Rabbit replied as she got seated into the simulation chair. She felt the controls for a bit and readied-up via the game's controls. As the count-down appeared on the monitor, she turned to the crocodile.

"When we are done with this, the drinks are one me."

The crowd cheered.

That is it. The Darken Legacy wrapped up. Thank you for reading. Whatever you thought of it, please, leave your feedback, it will help you with my next story. Thanks again!


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